


Tied in Knots

by LeviSqueaks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fisting, BDSM, Biting, Blindfolds, Bloodplay, Bottom Dean Winchester, Breathplay, Choking, Dean Winchester Wears Panties, DeanandCas Bingo 2020, Dom/sub Play, Good Boy, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, Kink Negotiation, Kneeling, Knifeplay, M/M, Praise Kink, Public Blow Jobs, Public Claiming, Public Sex, Restraints, Rough Sex, S/M, Sadism, Safewords, Sensory Deprivation, Shibari, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, badthingshappenbingo, being watched square, breathplay square
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23009224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/pseuds/LeviSqueaks
Summary: Dean Winchester has thought of submitting to only one man since moving to Nashville, When he gets the chance, Castiel will take him to his limits and beyond. Follow them on their journey of self discovery and debauchery Inspired by artwork from Shealynn88.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 64
Kudos: 177
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Dean and Cas Bingo





	1. Negotiations

Dean stared up at the house nestled into an unassuming neighborhood and frowned, shifting and shoving his hands in his jeans. He had been to several munches in the past few months since moving to Nashville, but he hadn’t actually been to a party yet, and the thought of going in was intimidating.

He had met several different people that caught his eyes at the munches, spent some time talking to them online… but there was only one that he thought about in the darkness of his bedroom.

Cas. 

Dean hadn’t really gotten to talk to him too much, having only exchanged a few words and a short conversation online about tonight’s party. But the man’s deep voice and intense eyes had Dean’s stomach twisting anytime he looked across the table at him. He had started imagining what being with the man would be like, having stalked him online long enough to know they had a lot of the same kinks and a shared love for Stephen King and burgers. 

It was the thought of Cas that kept him up at night, that had him obsessively checking his phone at work, and, now, had him walking up the walk to knock on the door and make his way inside. The atmosphere was laidback, one of the girls waving and offering him a hug as he stepped in before taking the chips he had brought and motioning him to follow her to the kitchen. There were several people in the dining room, playing some sort of card game, another group in the kitchen making drinks and plates of potluck dinner. 

There was a moan and a few soft thudding sounds that sounded from the open stairway leading downstairs that caught Dean’s attention and he paused and turned to stare through the door and down the stairs. A low cry sounded then, and it forced Dean to swallow arousal down. He wanted to go downstairs, see what was making the woman cry out like that… but the red lights in the stairwell were foreboding and he hesitated, listening. Another firm thud, then a high wail sent a thrill up his spine and he took a slow breath as he forced himself to keep walking. He was hyper aware now though, and the slide of silk across his hip as he pivoted away from the kitchen made him rub his hands up and down his thigh. He needed something to settle himself. This was worse than his first munch. 

He wanted to find Castiel. 

He hadn’t actually managed to muster up the courage to talk to him before the event. He wasn’t even sure that Castiel would be interested… but the thought had been eating at him for days and, if nothing else, he wanted to be able to talk to the man for next time. Still… he had made the impulsive choice to wear his best green panties beneath his jeans and henley and knowing that he was packaged up so prettily gave him that small boost needed to keep walking forward. 

He ended up in the living room, the music a little quieter back here and there were several people engaged in conversation on one of the big sectionals… something about pokemon as far as Dean could figure. His lips quirked as he waved at their greeting before his eyes caught on the man sitting on the far side of the room. Dean suddenly felt like there was fire going down his spine as Castiel’s eyes lifted from his book to stare at him, his head tilting just slightly and blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. 

Castiel was sitting in the chair, feet firmly planted on the floor with legs spread. The sight of Castiel sitting there, like a king on a throne, made Dean's heart race. He struggled to take a deep enough breath, as looking at him was nearly enough to send Dean crashing to his knees. Castiel sat easily with his strong calves and thick thighs encased in black denim. He was wearing a simple button-up shirt with a vest over it. It should have looked douchey. It should have made Castiel look out of place, overdressed. Instead, Dean felt his legs trembling with the effort to keep himself standing as Castiel let his eyes roam slowly up Dean’s own body, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Dean wasn't used to feeling like prey, but the trembling in his stomach couldn't be described as anything but that of a morsel waiting to be devoured.

Castiel cocked his head a little further to the side and he licked his lips, his eyebrow raising and settling as he lifted a hand and crooked a long finger at Dean, beckoning him to come forward. “Hello, Dean,” he intoned softly. 

Dean’s cheeks flared with heat and he released a lopsided grin out of nerves. “Hey Cas...tiel,” he managed, quickly tacking on the rest of the man’s name. He hadn’t been given permission to use nicknames and the gleam that entered Castiel’s eyes made him wonder if he was going to regret it in a moment. Clearing his throat he tried again, tensing his muscles to keep from squirming under the silent, measuring gaze. “It’s uh, it’s go-good to see you,” he stammered as his eyes ducked down and he smiled again. 

Castiel waited to respond, lip curling lightly in the corner as he rested his head back against the chair and then raised an eyebrow at Dean, “I have been waiting for you to show up.” The words and his tone were measured, followed by silence to indicate his displeasure.

The words were still softly spoken, but in the bass growl that made Dean’s cock twitch with arousal. Dean flushed and squirmed in front of the man, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait.” Shit! He hadn’t even known Castiel was aware of him… nevermind that he would be waiting for Dean. “I’m sorry,” he repeated again quietly. 

Castiel raised an eyebrow again and waited, his blue eyes narrowing. Dean shifted and considered the man, his heart racing in his chest until he realized what Castiel was waiting for. He flushed red, eyes dropping to avoid the startling blue. “I’m sorry, Sir,” he corrected himself quietly. 

Castiel smirked then and eyed Dean before patting his left thigh. “Sit.” The word was firm, there was no room for argument. Not that Dean wanted to argue with the other man. He shifted, squirming as he glanced quickly to the group on the other side of the room before carefully reaching forward to steady himself on the chair beside Castiel’s head and gingerly lowering himself to sit on the dominant’s knee. He balanced there, the heat of the man’s leg searing through him. He was hyper aware of Castiel’s solid body and he held himself ramrod straight. 

Castiel’s eyes squinted in pleasure as his lips curled into a small smile. “Good boy,” he praised as his hand came to settle on Dean’s lower back, fingers spreading across it making Dean have to choke back a whimper, a deep blush staining his cheeks as he smiled and looked away. He wasn’t used to the nerves, how Castiel-how anyone could turn him into some shy school boy, hot for teacher. He liked that Castiel had so much power that he could make Dean feel this way with a few words. “You indicated to me, in your messages, that you would like to play,” Castiel said casually as his thumb began slowly stroking against Dean’s spine, “Did I misunderstand your intentions?” 

Dean swallowed and shook his head quickly, a nervous exhale leaving parted lips before a small whimper sounded when Castiel’s hand moved from his lower back to quickly smack his ass. “No! No, Sir, you didn’t… yes, I… I had hoped you would want to play… with me,” Dean quickly corrected himself and Castiel’s lips quirked again as he slid his hand slowly from Dean’s ass to his lower back again, resting over his spine but this time, under his shirt. The feeling of the warm hand against Dean’s back sent goosebumps tightening his skin and his stomach clenched as he took another careful breath. His cock was chubbing up in his pants and Dean fought against the mortification at how quickly he was reacting to the man. But Castiel’s very presence felt overpowering and Dean swayed lightly before tensing on his lap. He couldn’t do that… couldn’t give in to the man yet. 

Castiel only nodded in response but Dean felt like the man’s eyes were stripping him bare, measuring him in some way that Dean wasn’t sure he could meet. He swallowed in response as the air grew thick with tension and his own mounting nerves but then Castiel stroked his back again and Dean melted into the touch, back just slightly arching. 

Castiel’s voice was lower when he responded, something Dean wasn’t aware could happen. It washed over him like a wave in a storm, crashing around his senses and he struggled to pay attention to the words and not the power that radiated from the man. “I do wish to play with you. I have been watching you, Dean. For a very long time.” 

Dean flashed a grin at him and cocked his head, his eyes glinting as Castiel admitted it. The man’s power was intoxicating but Dean just couldn’t help the quip at that little reveal. “Aww, you think I’m pretty don’t you?” Castiel’s lips twitched in response after a pause before a low chuckle fell from his lips. He reached up quickly then, before Dean could manage to avoid it and it fisted in the hair at the back of his head. “Shit!” 

Castiel shook his head in amusement and held the grip there as Dean reached up as if to stop him. A severe look arresting Dean’s hands and he sat, wobbling on Castiel’s knee, panting as Castiel stared him down. The people talking about pokemon or whatever on the couch had paused to watch them and it flushed Dean’s cheeks again but he flashed Castiel an unrepentant grin, earning a small smirk in return. Fuck that really pushed his buttons in all of the best ways. “I see that we’re going to have to have this conversation properly.” Castiel mused and suddenly used the grip on Dean’s hair to push his head forward, unseating Dean so that he crashed on his knees between Castiel’s spread thighs. 

Dean swore thickly and stared up at Castiel, wincing and moaning when the other man lightly popped his cheek. “Language,” Castiel scolded and Dean grinned again but settled himself on his knees and looked up to meet Castiel’s eyes, waiting patiently for the other man to start the conversation again. Now that he had mouthed off he was feeling a little better about it. Castiel hadn’t appeared to be frustrated with him for it, and that made Dean like him even more. He took a slow breath and Castiel eyed him before carefully loosening his grip on Dean’s hair. The released tension made Dean’s scalp tingle and he shifted better on his knees, spreading them a little behind Castiel’s feet. 

Castiel nodded down at him and stroked his hair, fingers carding through the short brown locks. “Good,” the man said, starting again. “I looked your profile over, after you asked if I would be attending tonight’s event,” Castiel’s tone was measured and words calm again. “I saw that you had several of my favorite,” he paused as if considering his words, long fingers teasing at the hair at the base of Dean’s neck, “interests… in your ‘curious about’ section. Tell me, Dean, you had a very brief list, am I to understand that you have more than passing curiosity for all of the things you added?”

Dean considered and frowned. “Uh… yeah?” He asked and he pulled his phone out and lifted it to unlock and check, his knuckles inadvertently brushing against Castiel’s crotch. He flushed and moved his hand back but only got a small smirk in response and a lifted brow. “Sorry, Sir,” Dean managed, biting back the desire to make another juvenile joke, and focused. He read over his interests and another flush flamed over his face. ‘Curious About: Being choked until I almost pass out while you fuck me (everything to do with it), Being fucked in front of an audience (everything to do with it), Bloodplay (receiving), Collaring (receiving), Fighting for dominance (everything to do with it), Fisting (receiving), Knifeplay (everything to do with it), Over the knee spanking (receiving), Prostate massages (receiving), Put me on my knees and make me call you Daddy (receiving), Shibari (receiving), Tied up and fucked (receiving), Wearing panties for you, Sir (giving)’ Jesus he looked like a damn whore when you broke his interests down in a list like that but… everything on that list made his stomach clench, his cock harden, and a whimper nearly escaped thinking about doing any of those with Castiel. He closed his phone, his green eyes lifting to meet Castiel’s blue ones. Based on the interest gleaming in Castiel’s eyes, he was pretty sure he looked as desperate as he felt. “Yeah… I want to do all of that,” he agreed softly. 

Castiel’s eyes shone with approval and he fisted Dean’s hair again, drawing another curse from Dean’s lips as his eyes fluttered shut. It was like Castiel was gripping his damn dick he got so hard from the action. “Good,” Castiel purred in his ear and Dean grunted and forced his eyes open to meet Castiel’s. “What is your safeword, Dean?” Castiel asked calmly as he let his hair go again. 

Dean swallowed, “uh… light system usually… it’s easier to just call a color, Sir.” Castiel nodded in understanding and he cupped the back of Dean’s neck gently in response. 

“Good Boy, So here is what we are going to do. We’re going to go downstairs, you’re going to kneel for me where I tell you until I’ve got what I need ready. When we start our scene, you’re going to pay attention and if you decide that anything I do,” he emphasized firmly, “is something you are not into, you will call your color.” 

Dean tried to nod quickly in agreement but the firm grip on his neck prevented him. “Yes, Sir.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. “I will check in frequently for your color. You will not tell me what you think I want to hear. You will communicate truthfully. This is important, Dean.” 

Dean swallowed and felt his stomach curl with happiness at the man’s insistence, “yeah Cas… Sir, I mean, I understand.” 

Castiel nodded and then bent to press a kiss to Dean’s forehead then, the kiss lingering and gentle. “Good boy,” he whispered in Dean’s ear then released him. “Color?” 

“So fucking green,” Dean breathed out, his stomach twisting with excitement. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Castiel hadn’t said what he was into but Dean remembered a couple of them and his heart was racing. 

Castiel chuckled in response and popped his cheek again lightly. “Language. Stand up for me, Dean,” he ordered as he leaned back again. 

Dean quickly scrambled to his feet and had to take a couple deep breaths to steady himself as his head swam with adrenaline and excitement for what was about to come. 

Castiel stood then, his body posture strong and self-assured. He may have been shorter than Dean by a few inches but he was strong and muscular and his presence was enough to make him feel larger than life. 

Castiel moved past Dean, reaching to clamp a hand over Dean’s wrist firmly and he led him through the living room. Dean’s breath quickened as Castiel turned to the right to parade him through the dining room and kitchen instead of straight out to the hall and down the stairs. He was giving Dean the audience, letting everyone know that Dean was his tonight and the possessive claim made Dean’s face heat even as he grinned at a couple of the people there he knew. 

They made their way to the doorway leading down into the red-lit basement to a few jeers and laughs and Dean laughed breathlessly to himself in response. God. This was going to be amazing in all of the best ways. His breath came a little quicker as Castiel descended down the solid steps, the pounding bass of the music enveloping him as they ended up in the warm basement.


	2. Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is just fit to be tied...

Dean’s eyes roamed the room, there was a St. Andrew’s cross up against one wall, a huge rack full of impact play implements like crops, paddles, and whips. There were handcuffs there and they made Dean whimper. 

Castiel looked back measuring his expression then followed his gaze, releasing a chuckle. “Hmm maybe next time,” the man mused to Dean and left him there to look over the implements and the shelving next to it. 

Dean’s eyes turned to scan the shelving, his eyes captured by the ejaculating cock art on the walls above it. He snickered and shifted closer to look at the items on the shelves. Chucks were there, and Castiel reached past him to pick up several to start laying on the open space under one of the thick metal beams that ran across the ceiling. Dean let his eyes trail over the large pump bottle of lubricant, the bowl of condoms and the toys set out for use. His eyes trailed over a large pink dildo before he remembered his instructions and turned to face Castiel and sink to his knees. 

Castiel turned and eyed him, his lips quirking as he gave a single nod of approval before standing from his task to approach. “Good boy, Dean.” His tone was fond as he praised Dean softly and crouched down in front of him. Dean felt his own heart swell with the praise, his stomach twisting as it brought a small smile to his face, eyes dropping a little. They snapped back up to meet blue when Castiel started talking again. “Because you seemed to like them so much… put your hands behind your back,” Castiel said as he stood and reached for the padded cuffs on the rack. 

Dean’s breath quickened and he quickly did so. He noted how his posture changed, swaying more upright in order to keep his balance and he took a sharp breath in response. Oh… he, liked that… liked it even more when Castiel crouched beside him to tighten the cuffs around his wrists. They were leather and had buckle restraints which seemed to echo loudly in the room as Castiel fastened them around Dean’s wrists. 

A whimper dragged itself out of his throat once they were locked together and Castiel shifted forward to meet his eyes, “Color?” 

Dean breathed again and nodded, “Green, Sir.” The words were quiet as Dean sank into the feeling of being restrained. He noted two people quietly come downstairs and take seats on one of the benches and it made his cheeks flame anew. 

Castiel cupped a hand to the back of his neck again and he nodded in acknowledgement. “Good, spread your knees for me,” he guided Dean and steadied Dean with a hand on his chest and upper arm so Dean didn’t tip over as he did. When he settled, ass back on heels, he realized it was more comfortable and he felt more balanced.

Castiel kissed his forehead again and Dean sighed softly in response before the dominant stood and went to his bag in the corner. He pulled out several coils of soft blue ropes and Dean’s eyes went wide, breath coming quicker, body tightening at seeing them. They were placed on one of the chucks and then followed by a wicked looking knife and then more rope. Dean squirmed in place, his cock throbbing in his panties and overly tight jeans. 

Castiel came forward, his eyes flashing in the lights set up and around the room. He crouched down again and smiled at Dean. “Color?” 

Dean let out a shuddering breath, he was impatient and wanting to get on with it, but there was no way that bratting or mouthing off was going to get him what he wanted. “Green, so green… please Sir.” he begged softly and Castiel’s eyes gleamed. 

He looked down at Dean, face set in a considering expression and he reached to tease fingers along the hem. “Is this a favorite shirt?” His tone was curious but didn’t betray the reason that he asked. 

Dean shook his head, “No, it’s just a shirt.” a black henley he had gotten at Walmart that fit well but had no sentimental value. Castiel nodded in understanding then drew a knife out and snapped it open, the blade snicking as it locked in place. Dean drew a quick inhale, his eyes riveted on the shining blade. 

Castiel held it up between them and then reached out quickly to fist the shirt and drew the blade up, cutting and ripping the material so that it hung down off Dean’s shoulders. Dean whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut as he swayed and Castiel ran a hand possessively up from Dean’s stomach to his throat, wrapping fingers there. 

“I’m going to help you stand up,” Castiel explained then stood and lifted Dean under his armpits to drag him up. Dean stumbled as he tried to catch himself but couldn’t with his hands bound behind his back and the quick change in position made him sway as he gasped, trying to catch his breath. This shouldn’t be freaking him out as much as it was and he turned wide eyes to Castiel. The man seemed to understand because he shifted forward, his body pressing firm against Dean as he put a hand to Dean’s shoulder and braced.

Dean buried his face in Castiel’s neck, taking deep breaths of the man’s spicy cologne and settling himself until he felt better. He wasn’t sure where all of that had come from and he felt a little stupid for it. Once he was able, he swayed back upright and met Castiel’s eyes. 

Castiel cupped his cheek then, his expression calm. At least he didn’t look pissed at Dean. “Stand straight for me,” Castiel guided then and crouched down once Dean settled himself. His movements were deft and sure as he worked to untie Dean’s boots, supporting Dean to step out of them, then dragging off socks and reaching up for the button of Dean’s jeans. 

Dean exhaled as his feet touched the cool floor and he focused, allowing Castiel to undress him bit by bit. He watched Castiel work his way up silently, the torn remnants of his shirt sliding down his arms then felt a bolt of embarrassment when Castiel’s hands came up to the fly of his jeans. He squirmed a bit and bit his lip but nodded when Castiel searched his face. “I’m green, Sir.”

Castiel gave an approving look and unbuttoned the fly, dragging down the zipper which was almost lost in the music swirling around them. There were two more people now, leaning against one of the walls but Dean tuned them out in order to watch Castiel’s expression as he tugged the levis down over his hips and thighs. When they fell, he felt the flush of arousal and embarrassment as Castiel settled back, hands on either of his thighs and gazing at Dean's panties.

Dean had chosen them after several hours of searching and deciding. He had agonized over the decision and finally picked out the blue silk with lace over the hips. They fit snuggly but had enough stretch that he could comfortably sit and settle in them without them being too constricting. Castiel ran his hands up Dean’s thighs again, fingers spread wide and he circled his fingers around Dean’s cock and balls, dragging a whine from Dean’s throat. Castiel was touching him everywhere and in the warm air of the basement, Dean’s nipples tightened as skin erupted with gooseflesh and he bucked forward slightly. 

Castiel slapped his thighs in amusement and reached around to cup and squeeze Dean’s cheeks making Dean sway and whimper at the manhandling. It felt like live wires touching him for how warm Castiel’s fingers felt through the cool silky material and a glance down at himself revealed he had a wet spot starting to form as he grew harder at the teasing. 

Castiel stood and wrapped a hand around Dean’s arm to lead him forward to the chucks and pointed to them. “Kneel for me, then I’m going to help you shift so you’re on your knees and chest.” Castiel guided and Dean sank to his knees before carefully tilting forward, Castiel’s hands on his shoulders lowering him until he was stuck with chest and shoulders bracing him, hands curled across his back and his ass in the air. 

Dean’s heart raced and he whimpered, feeling the vulnerability of the position as he shifted uneasily and settled, face turned to watch Castiel as he crouched next to him. Cas was so at ease like that, balanced on his toes, legs spread, commanding and never kneeling. It made Dean lick his lips as he watched Castiel reach forward and trace his fingers down his spine and over his hands, which reached for Castiel’s instinctively. 

Castiel smiled and held Dean’s hand with that hand, using the other to reach down and card through Dean’s hair gently. “Color?” 

Dean considered it and nodded, “Green still…” He said after a second then took a settling breath, his stomach clenching again before relaxing. “Green, Sir.” 

Castiel nodded and then released Dean to reach up and loosen the tie around his neck. He didn’t fully unknot the expanse of blue silk, just pulled it up over his head, messing his hair. Dean’s lips opened as he watched the man’s nimble fingers tug and pull the silk, the way his hair looked like he had just had amazing sex, then gasped as Castiel brought the tie down to lovingly loop around his head and tighten, blocking everything from view. 

The sudden loss of one of his senses threw Dean and he panted suddenly, his hands reaching out for Castiel, body tense in shock. His breathing brought the dominant’s scent close, the tie bathed in that intoxicating spicy scent. It helped, but it was Castiel’s gentle hand coming to hold his own that settled him further. “Color?” He could hear Castiel ask the question and he shook his head and squeezed Castiel’s hand, trying to calm himself down with the anchor of the man’s hand in his. There was a pause and then Castiel’s voice broke through the white noise receding from Dean’s ears. “Color, Dean?” 

“G...Green,” Dean managed as he blinked sudden tears from his eyes and took slow measuring breaths, inhaling the scent of Castiel again as he settled his cheek against the cool floor. 

“Are you sure?” Castiel’s tone of voice wasn’t doubting or mocking and that finally let the last band of steel around Dean’s muscles relax. 

“Yeah… yes, Sir. I’m okay. I’m green,” came the calmer response and Dean earned a squeeze to his hand at the answer.

“Good boy… so good for me Dean, you’re doing very well for me,” Castiel praised and Dean flushed with the praise, toes curling in delight at the acknowledgement that sent warm pulses through his belly. Castiel’s hand gently tugged from Dean’s and both slid down his hips and thighs, back up then to slide over his ass before tugging the panties down to just under his sit spot and then suddenly those fiery hot hands were stroking over his bare ass, squeezing cheeks and pulling them apart so that Dean’s hole was exposed. 

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, cheeks flaming at the vulgar picture he knew he was making then cursed when he felt Castiel’s cool breath blowing across his hole, making him clench muscles. “Fuck Cas… Sir please.” He whined in response before a warm shocking pain bloomed over one cheek as Castiel drew a hand back and smacked his ass. “Oohhhhh,” Dean managed with a strangled whimper as the hand came down again and rubbed the sting into Dean’s cheeks. 

The blows came quickly then. Each strike a fire-brand against Dean’s quickly blooming skin. Each hit stoked the pleasure in his stomach. Dean heaved, glad for the blindfold covering his eyes. He didn’t want Castiel to see the tears slowly welling in his eyes as his hands scrabbled for purchase and gripped each other tightly. He didn’t try to escape, though. He pushed backward towards the hand. When the last strike landed and paused to rub in the sting, Dean gasped, trying to clear the tears in his eyes and throat. “Thank you, Sir.” he managed quietly. 

Castiel’s warmth shifted and drew closer to Dean’s face and Dean turned his cheek up instinctively toward it, “What, Sweet Boy?” 

Dean sniffled and leaned over to try and settle himself against Castiel’s heat. “Thank you, Sir,” he managed and earned a gentle kiss to his temple for his efforts.

Castiel’s hands were suddenly all over him again, lifting him up to his knees and yanking on one thigh so Dean was spread wide again and then his heat was gone. Dean sat back on his heels and tried to breath through the tension of being sightless. His heart was racing with every passing second. It was as if Castiel had left him wandering in an empty pit. If he strained, he could hear soft conversation past the music. But he couldn’t hear Castiel. Suddenly, a trail of cool silken rope traced across his shoulder. The slick slide made him sway forward as he cried out in response. He hadn’t expected the touch, nor the hand that traced down his throat or the flick of a bundled knot of rope against his chest in a heavy thud. 

Dean whimpered as Castiel circled behind him and he leaned back a little in response. He shifted and swayed toward Castiel, begging for contact. His arms were brought closer together as Castiel unclipped them but left the cuffs around his wrists. Castiel crouched behind him and unraveled one of the bundles of rope before reaching around Dean to tighten his arm across his chest to grip his upper arm and brought his left hand up to settle against Dean’s throat and squeeze firmly. 

Dean’s chest heaved in response to the sudden tight hold, his body melting back against Castiel’s chest. His breaths came in quick pants. Begging and desperate for air. He shifted, almost as if to fight his way free of the strong grip. He thought his vision might have greyed lightly if he could see past the silk of Castiel’s tie but Castiel loosened his grip before he lost consciousness. 

Castiel did not loosen the grip across his chest however and Dean brought his own hands up to rest on the strong arm, settled back against Castiel as he heaved. He expected the question, but the husky murmur in his ear still made his cock twitch and his grip tighten. “Color?”   
Dean turned his head to press a cheek against Castiel’s arm and sighed. “Green. Please Sir… I want you to make me yours,” 

The dark chuckle sounded right at his ear before lips trailed down the edge of it. Dean grunted in response to the slow slide, “you already are, Dean.” 

Dean choked on a cry then as he was suddenly released. He waited as he felt movement and the heat of Castiel behind him but no further touching until arms circled him again and the slow cool slide of rope ran across his sternum from left to right. 

Dean swallowed down his moan, shifting his stance as smooth hands wrapped the rope tightly around him, just under the swell of his pectorals and around his back before looping one side through the other. Then came a series of long tugs that let the rope gently slide against his skin, and the length of rope snap forward against the muscles in his back. 

Concentrating, Dean could feel the ridges rub tight with tension against his ribs. Hear the rustling of rope sliding against rope. Feel the snap of the edges hitting his skin. Gooseflesh erupted anew over his body and he shivered in response as the last length snapped through, hitting him firmly as the circle was tightened in a firm steadying pressure. 

Castiel rested a hand against his right shoulder and the other glided up along his left shoulder blade and over the shoulder to trail down across his chest. Dean was pretty sure his nipples and cock could cut glass they were so hard. He whimpered as the length fell forward and Castiel stood and circled around the front of him, tension pulled firm in the rope. 

Castiel traced his hand down the front of Dean’s chest, then tugged the first circle under his pecs, dragging Dean forward and slightly off balance as he tugged and tucked the rope down the front, the slither of the rope against skin making Dean grunt as Castiel tucked under and back up, smoothing the rope to lay flat. “Good boy,” he praised Dean quietly and Dean swelled under the praise as Castiel dragged the long length up from the loop and then sprawled his hands over the rope to slide it up and over his opposite shoulder, forming a V. 

Dean wasn’t exactly sure he understood the shape that was being created, but the firm cradle of silken ropes against his skin, the slide of the smooth materials, the rasping slick sound had him pulsing in his panties and he squirmed. Castiel’s hand came firmly down on his right cheek and Dean cried out as he arched upward, arrested in the movement as Castiel held the rope firm, keeping him in place. “Do not move, Dean.” 

Dean whined but settled back down as Castiel smoothed and tucked and twisted the rope, settling it firmly around him and then circling back up and around, trailing just under his throat to curve around under Dean’s armpit, then tucking and yanking before tracing the same in reverse. When it was completed, Castiel tied it firmly, several yanks threatening to send Dean off center before Castiel circled him again.   
Dean arched toward Castiel and sighed in pleasure when the man traced a hand down from his throat, over the rope and lower before gripping him through the panties. Dean whined at the firm grip and bucked forward but shuddered as Castiel slapped his thigh twice in response. Dean settled back then. Waited. His breaths came in heaving pants after the slaps and then Castiel shifted and used the harness to drag Dean forward to lay out across the chucks. Dean was rolled over then, relaxing limply as Castiel put him on his back, panties cupping his erection in plain view, and the ropes pressing just this side of too tight against his neck and chest. Dean lay there, shivering as Castiel settled above him, straddling his waist. 

Dean whined and reached to hold onto Castiel’s knees, grounding himself as he settled back. It was quiet for a moment with just the music and their breathing audible around them. Then suddenly, there was the unmistakable click of the knife. Dean tensed, his whole body going taut under Castiel. A pause. Castiel traced a finger against Dean’s chest and Dean cried out sharply before panting in response. There was a sizzle of tension then as Castiel leaned close and gripped his hair, turning Dean’s head. He leaned closer to Dean. “Color?” 

Dean whined deep in his throat. “Gree….Yellow, Sir.” there was a soft noise to the side and Castiel tugged the tie off to meet Dean’s eyes, expression serious.

“Good boy, Dean.” Castiel praised him and he settled his hands on Dean’s shoulder and let Dean breathe for a moment. “Why did you call yellow?” Castiel inquired.

Dean blinked several times before settling, vision refocusing after the darkness of the blindfold. “I don’t want to do the blindfold when you’ve got a knife to me. It’s too much.” 

Castiel nodded and he stroked Dean’s hair gently. “Thank you for telling me,” he said calmly. “Do you want to continue? Without the blindfold?” 

Dean had never nodded so quickly. “Yes, Please, Sir. Green.” He agreed, eyes eagerly tracing the sharp features of the other man. 

Castiel twirled the knife in his hand, the blade catching the light and seizing the air in Dean's lungs. Seeing the weapon so close to him, when he was powerless to fight back and stop it had his stomach quivering. 

And then the blade dropped to his chest and a line of fire bloomed over his heart.

TBC


	3. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Find the amazing artist who inspired this scene here: https://www.pillowfort.social/Shealynn88. Picture posted with permission!

The knife trailed down his skin, leaving lava and fire in its wake.

The worst, or best part, was that it was the vision of the knife teasing along the line of the rope across his left pec that had Dean’s cock twitching and a loud whine erupting from his throat. It wasn’t until Castiel lifted the knife and blood bloomed in soft dots of crimson across freckled skin that the stinging throbbing force of the pain slammed into Dean, stealing his breath.

He panted, staring up at the man straddling his stomach, licking his lips. He only had a moment’s reprieve before the knife teased up one side of his collarbone, light and feathery, scratching but not cutting.

Then blue eyes met Dean’s as Castiel leaned forward, looming over Dean who gulped in air and whined as the man slowly edged the knife’s blade across the delicate skin of his throat and then down across the other side of his clavicle. Dean sobbed then, his hips bucking upward in desperate search of relief before Castiel shifted further down to straddle his thighs and the knife was dragged down over Dean’s stomach, leaving another blooming trail of blood as Dean howled.

Those who were watching, seemed both mesmerized and wary, but Dean’s attention was only for Castiel, and Castiel was staring down at Dean as if he had found Atlantis. “Color, Sweetheart?” Castiel murmured as he shifted further down, settling over Dean’s knees as the man arched up toward him with a whine. “Green… green Cas, please Sir.” He begged, his own hand coming up to tease against the cut on his pec, trailing crimson across his stomach as he reached lower, painting himself with his own blood.

Castiel’s answering smirk dragged a grunt out of Dean before he howled again as the knife suddenly cut once. Twice. Three times across his left thigh. Dean whimpered, reaching down to grip himself firmly, trying not to come just from this alone as Castiel dropped the knife with a clatter and rocked forward on his own knees, reaching to fist Dean’s hair and kiss him deeply while dragging fingernails down across Dean’s stomach.

Dean cursed out loud and bucked up into the fingers before glaring at Castiel. “Stop teasing,” he demanded angrily as he tried to arch up against the other man. Castiel laughed and it sent shivers up Dean’s spine as Castiel settled back and brought the bloodstained hand up to delicately lick the crimson from his fingers.

Dean stilled, watching… the throb of his heartbeat matching the ache that seemed to only burn hotter as his skin swelled from the cuts. “Roll over,” Castiel commanded as he rose up and Dean scrambled to obey the older man as he watched Castiel go to the wall to gather another set of the leather buckled cuffs that he had on his wrists.

Castiel returned to his side and lifted one ankle to wrap the cuff tightly around it, repeating with the other leg. Each loud rasp of the leather through metal buckles made Dean whine and clench his fists before Castiel bent his legs toward his ass. The movement shifted Dean’s body and the cuts on his thigh made him moan and rock his hips down against the cool floor.

He felt feverish all over and his eyes fluttered shut before snapping back open when one of his arms was dragged backwards and there was a cold catch before his hand and ankle were connected. Dean arched around to look and caught sight of the two cuffs being connected by a d-ring before his other wrist was locked backwards and he was stuck, back bowed and helpless.

Castiel was there before Dean could think through it enough to panic and there were long fingers dragging through his hair as Castiel used the harness he’d tied to rock Dean to his side and then bent to give Dean a filthy kiss, mouth forceful and demanding against Dean’s own and he melted into it, surrendering.

Castiel pulled back and traced fingers down Dean’s arm. “So good for me, Sweetheart. You’re being such a good boy. I’m going to put you on your back again.” All Dean could do was nod and whine as Castiel stood and lifted Dean firmly, turning him so Dean was stuck with his shoulders pressing into the floor and his arms stretched taut under his body as his hips were forced high in the air.

Castiel reached out for another rope, quickly looping it above them on the hardpoint and let it drape down across Dean’s skin. Dean watched, transfixed as Castiel quickly knotted it the way he wanted and then used it to tie off against the rope harness at Dean’s chest. Once secured, Dean relaxed his pose, letting himself sink into it as the rope held taut and supported him. It was easier to hang there with his shoulders pressed into the floor and his hips arched obscenely in the air.

Castiel picked the knife up again to twirl it and Dean whined in his throat as he watched Castiel saunter to the other side of him, tracing the blade lightly, too light to cut, across his calf, the shivers erupting from the movement and sending gooseflesh across Dean’s body. He felt his cock twitch in his panties as Castiel circled him. “So beautiful for me,” Castiel murmured and then quickly let the blade slice across Dean’s chest opposite the first cut. The sting only came after blood bloomed yet again, a line of ice and then fire as his body throbbed with it in time with the twitching in his cock. He hadn’t even been touched and he felt close to coming.

Castiel made an approving sound as he traced the shallow cut with his fingers before smiling. “So delectable, Dean… I am going to enjoy tasting you and feeling you around me.” Castiel moved back to Dean’s thighs then, stepping between them and teasing hands down Dean’s stomach to his hips. Dean arched up into it, gasping as Castiel’s long fingers fanned out to frame but not touch his trapped cock and balls. “They’re so pretty… it’s a shame to ruin them,” Castiel drawled, blue eyes meeting Dean’s as he twirled the knife in his hands.  
When Dean nodded, eyes mesmerized by the flashing light across the blood stained blade, Castiel dragged the knife down toward Dean’s cock from his navel and teased the tip of the blade down the silk-enclosed length. “Ahhhh, fuck Cas!” Dean swore thickly, his body tensing as the knife slid lower and then quickly flicked out to cut the two weaker spots of lace so the panties slid off his body to the floor underneath him.

Castiel smiled then and shifted away to put the knife on a chuck out of the way and returning to Dean with a bottle of lubricant in hand. Dean moaned and flexed his hands when he caught sight of it. His heart felt like it might rip from his chest and he tried to flex himself wider, feeling exposed and bare sprawled out the way he was for Castiel and the silent audience that had gathered around them. Three of them had walked to the right to stand next to one of the benches along the far wall so they could see him and Dean closed his eyes for a moment to try and block them out. He felt himself slip a little then, the heat of knowing he was being watched, the throbbing pain that tugged at his consciousness from various points in his body, the thrumming music that washed over him, the heat from Castiel as he grew close… all of it washed over him and he sighed into the restraints and waited.

A warm hand traced up his uncut thigh and gripped his hip lightly. “Dean? Color Sweetheart?” There was a gentleness to Castiel’s tone that made Dean open his eyes and meet the other man’s. He was slipping off, floating and warm and the feeling only grew as he looked up into the eyes of the other man.

Castiel stood patiently, his expression warm and caring, hands stroking Dean’s hip gently until Dean answered, “I’m yours, Sir.”

Castiel’s lips twitched up in a smile and he patted Dean’s hip before shifting forward to crouch next to him. “I’m honored, Sweetheart… but that wasn’t what I asked. What’s your color?”

Dean blinked slowly up at him and then smiled. “Green, Sir.”

Castiel nodded and he continued to stroke Dean’s stomach, his hands gentle. “Are you alright? Do you need me to release your legs and hands?”

Dean melted from how gentle and sweet Castiel was being with him. He liked this too, the gentleness after the pain. He shook his head and sighed, “I’m okay, Cas.”

Castiel smiled and leaned forward to cup Dean’s cheek, his other hand coming to lightly press against Dean’s throat. The sensation quickly sped his heart and Dean gasped as he arched up into the hands, gaining an approving smirk from his Dominant. “Well then, you’ve been so good for me, Sweetheart, I guess I’m going to have to give you a prize. Would you like that?”

Dean whined and nodded as Castiel released the pressure, allowing him to gulp in air. “Yes… Yes Sir please, Please Sir!” Dean babbled before his air was cut off again and he sagged, letting the rope hold his weight.

Castiel stood, hands abruptly pulling away from Dean’s throat and face and Dean gasped again for air as he swayed lightly. “Alright Sweetheart, I’m going to get that pretty hole of yours nice and wet for me then.” He said casually as he fished the lubricant back out of his pocket and opened the bottle with a little snap sound that sent a shiver up Dean’s spine.

Castiel pushed forward, his body standing proudly between Dean’s legs and Dean moaned as his overly sensitive skin was brushed with Castiel’s warm pants. “So beautiful on display for me Dean. I love how you’re hard for me, so ready for me to give you pleasure. You’re going to let me get you nice and wet, aren’t you Sweetheart?” Castiel crooned as he circled a slick finger against Dean’s entrance and then pushed in. “I’m going to fill you up. Maybe I should just get you stretched wide so I can take you as hard as I want, Hmm? Should I do that? Hold you and fuck you hard? Maybe I should stretch you nice and wide so I can put my fist deep in that pretty hole.”

Dean’s whole being had narrowed and centered in on the press of finger inside of him, the slide and burn as Castiel opened him up, the ache in his thighs and his Dominant’s words washing over him. He nodded to the words as he arched up into the man’s hand. “Yes Sir!” he breathed, happy to agree to anything as long as Castiel didn’t stop.

Castiel pushed a second finger into Dean, and it shattered him. “More! Please More Sir!” Dean wasn’t above begging for the man to take him harder, he was desperate for the man to take him. Own him. Use him.

Castiel pulled his fingers free of Dean and the emptiness was almost more than Dean could bear. He howled with the sudden throbbing pain as Castiel slapped Dean twice across the thigh, where he had cut earlier and Dean sagged back against the rope. “Don’t be greedy, Sweetheart. You’ll take what I give you,” Castiel said firmly, eyes flashing.

Dean sniffled and nodded and once Castiel had given him another firm look then suddenly the two fingers were thrust back in without warning and Dean gave a strangled shout, words escaping him in the hot, tight burn. The next several minutes were full of thrusting, stretching, and Castiel talking. “So good Sweetheart. You’re stretching so good for me. Going to take you. Going to ruin for you everyone else.”

Castiel’s words were like a bellow stoking the flames of Dean’s lust and pleasure and he finally sobbed, yanking with his arms, until he collapsed with only the rope supporting him. Castiel pulled back then, fingers slipping out and away from Dean only causing him to sob brokenly from the loss.

Castiel was suddenly beside him, unlocking his wrists from his Ankles and cradling him close and lifting him so he could use scissors to cut the rope, lowering Dean into his arms. “Shhh, shhh Sweetheart… I’ve got you.” Castiel murmured in his ears.

Dean turned to bury himself in Castiel’s arms, his face tucking into the crook of his neck as large, warm hands stroked down his back. His body ached but he wanted more, desperately. He clawed at Castiel and kissed his neck. “I’ll be good, Please Cas… need you, want you.” He begged brokenly, even as tears welled in his eyes and disappeared into the collar of Castiel’s dress shirt.

“No, not yet Sweetheart.” Castiel said softly as he rubbed Dean’s back and met the eyes of one of his friend’s. He motioned to the bottle of water and quirked a lip in thanks when she handed it to him. “Here, Sweetheart… a little water first. You went under too fast,” he soothed as he opened the bottle and tugged Dean around to his arms to give it to him.

Dean shakily accepted the water, curled close in Castiel’s arms and closing his eyes as he settled in and let the man’s strong body and warm scent surround him and settle his racing heart. It took several moments with Castiel gently kissing his hair and murmuring praise in his ear to get Dean to surface. He stiffened then and flushed as he turned to bury his face in Castiel’s chest. “Fuck, Sorry.”

Castiel wrapped his arms around him tightly and rocked him. “Don’t apologize. You went down fast and I didn’t check in enough,” he soothed Dean gently. “Are you alright?”

Dean nodded, a hand coming up to cling to Castiel’s vest. “Yeah… but I want to keep going.” The words rang solemnly and Castiel took a short inhale in response.

Suddenly, Dean was being pushed away from Castiel and blue eyes were meeting his intently. “Are you sure Sweetheart? We did a lot.”

Dean stubbornly shook his head in response and he met his eyes. “I want to keep going, just let me be in control of myself, yeah? I want you to keep going, Castiel… I want you to take me, ruin me for everyone else. You did promise, yeah?”

Castiel’s eyes searched Dean’s face for a long time, eyes careful and staring before he finally nodded once, “I did promise that, yes Sweetheart.” There was still hesitation there, but Dean shifted to his knees, shivering as the weight of eyes from their audience fell on him. His cock twitched where it hardened again, still heavy with need and he shifted back away from Castiel, sinking down to pillow his head on his arms as he spread his thighs and arched his back, presenting himself for the dominant.

“Good… then I’m green, Sir. Green and yours.”


	4. Filled

Dean felt a surge of pride as Castiel gasped quietly behind Dean as he settled on hands and knees, displaying himself for Castiel. Dean wanted to stay still, but he couldn’t help arching his back and shivering in the cool air of the basement. He could feel the goosebumps erupt across his spine as the air brushed his hole. It clenched tight before he forced himself to relax. Dean closed his eyes in order to focus on the sensation and feeling of being on display. His cock hung heavily between spread thighs as he felt the approaching heat of Castiel’s still-clothed body. 

The music was still thrumming all around them and anticipation was heavy in the air as the audience waited to see what Castiel would do with the very willing man spread out before him. Dean’s lips quirked as he felt that warm hand sprawl across the expanse of his left cheek and bit it as Castiel spread his cheeks and traced his thumb across the furled hole. 

Dean shivered as Castiel traced his thumb across his entrance again and whined deeply when the man began speaking. “Look at this pretty hole... Spread all out for me to take it and abuse it like I want. Is that what you want, Sweet boy? For me to stretch you open and fill you up? You’re going to let me do whatever I want to you, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” 

Castiel’s voice rubbed up his skin like raw gravel. Dean’s lips fell open as his eyes rolled back from the intense pleasure that lanced through him. He arched himself further to push back against the man’s hand, “please, Sir. Want you to use me, and fuck me, and ruin me,” Dean agreed quickly, voice thick with need and desperation.

The slow chuckle made Dean squirm which earned him four quick strikes across his sit spots, a whine threading out between clenched teeth as pain and heat bloomed over his ass. He shifted, burying his flushed face in his arm as he forced himself to relax back into the arch so that he was presented appropriately. Dean melted as Castiel ran his hands slowly across the reddened skin to soothe the sting, “good Boy, Dean… presenting so beautifully for me.” 

Castiel stood then and walked around Dean before returning to kneel behind him. Dean had little warning before suddenly he was being breached by a slick finger and he cried out brokenly from the sudden intrusion. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t even burn and Dean pushed back wordlessly as Castiel thrust his finger in deeply. 

“Perfect,” Castiel mused behind him and Dean shifted his head to hear him better, “you’re opening up perfectly for me, Sweetheart. Like you were made to take my fingers, I bet you want it badly enough that I could shove my whole hand in you. You’d just beg me for more, wouldn’t you, Dean?” 

Dean was so lost in the aching need consuming him. Every ounce of concentration he had was focused on the spot where Castiel was marking him. The quick return to subspace helped him sink into that sensation and he hummed, whining when he was spanked abruptly. “Answer me,” came the firm command and Dean sobbed lightly from the overwhelming stimulus that finally broke him as he keened. 

“Yes! Yes, Sir! Please Sir! I want it! I want you to fist me!” Dean quickly agreed then took it even further as he brokenly begged. “Please, Cas… want you to mark me, brand me as yours, so no one touches me again!” 

Castiel didn’t verbally answer but he pulled his finger back then suddenly added a second. Dean grunted and rocked back, relishing the sudden burn from the too-fast intrusion but wanting even more, his heart pounding in his ears as he rocked himself back firmly to bury them deep. He heard the soft chuckle at his eagerness to be filled and then suddenly there was a hand clamped down on his hip so he was trapped in place as Castiel drew them back and slammed them forward. It jarred him, the thrust powerful enough to pull a grunt from Dean’s throat unbidden. Dean was suddenly flooded with the need to be filled, claimed and he clenched a fist in his own hair, “please! Please Sir!” He didn’t even know what he was truly asking for, just knowing that what Cas was giving him wasn’t enough. 

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” came Castiel’s soft reply and then more cold lube was dripping down, around Castiel’s fingers and across his taint to slick him up and drip to the floor below him obscenely. Dean whined as a third finger was pushed in and his hole was stretched wide, fingers spreading and forcing his muscles to relax and give in. 

Dean’s entire world narrowed to those fingers. The cool air blowing across his flushed body caused a cold sweat to break out and his stomach cramped lightly as he shifted to widen his stance. He moaned lowly as Castiel began to roughly thrust the fingers into him and rocked back in time with the thrusts, his eyes fluttering shut as pleas fell brokenly from his lips in a desperate mantra, “please, Sir… please please please… need you.” 

“Such a good boy for me, Dean. Look at you, Beautiful. Taking my fingers like a champ. You were made for me, weren’t you Sweetheart? Made for my cock and my fist? Are you going to take the whole thing?” 

Dean loosed a desperate scream as Castiel shifted his hand to thrust firmly against his prostate with his fingers, unable to answer in the wordless, desperate shout. The next thrust included his pinkie, giving Dean no time to catch his breath as Castiel shoved his hand as deep as it would go without his thumb included. Dean felt himself stretching around the widest part of the man’s hand and he spasmed, clamping down as precum steadily dripped from his cock to the floor below him, coupled with drops of blood from the cuts and tears, “Yes!” he cried out and then gasped when more lube dripped down his skin across his hole. 

The air in the room seemed to come to a standstill as Castiel pulled his hand back and then pressed in again, thumb tucked in to breech Dean. Dean panted, sweat breaking out across his body as he trembled and tried to relax his body for the sudden intrusion. His body stretched uncomfortably wide as Castiel pushed into him slowly. The firm, insistent pressure grew. Closer and closer to pain and too much before suddenly the widest part of Castiel’s hand shifted past the tight ring of muscle and sank into Dean to the wrist. 

Dean keened and pushed back against it as Castiel reached down to firmly clamp a hand around Dean’s balls so he couldn’t cum, earning a broken sob in response. Dean’s entire being seemed focused on that one spot where Castiel’s hand was trapped inside of him and the coiling, angry need for release. “Good Boy, Dean. So good for me. Made just for me, weren’t you? Is that what you needed, Sweetheart? You just needed me to fill you up.” Castiel’s voice was low and intimate and Dean nodded quickly still trying to catch his breath as tears slipped down across freckled cheeks. 

“I’m going to move my hand now, Sweetheart. But you’re not allowed to cum. If you do you’re going to be punished, and I won’t fuck you full of cum. Do you understand?” 

“Yes! Yes, Sir!” Dean was drowning as he felt Castiel shift closer before suddenly the man’s hand was clenched in a tight fist and shoved into him firmly, pounding tightly as pleasure and pain raced up Dean’s spine. Each thrust seemed firmer and deeper than the last drawing loud, keening cries with each thrust. It could have gone on for five minutes or an hour. All Dean knew was pleasure. The ripple of need. The shock of pain curled into fiery pleasure as it lapped at Dean’s chest. The ache, the power… Dean was delirious with it all and he pushed back against each thrust mindlessly. 

The fist was dragged free without warning. Dean heaved and sobbed in response to the sudden loss before he was yanked up by his hair until he was kneeling tall. The quick disorientation was only heightened as Castiel stood and dragged him up to his feet. Dean swayed as Castiel stepped to his side. Suddenly, the hand buried in his hair slid to the back of his head and the slick hand that had just been buried in him came up to his chest. He only barely processed the hot, wet feeling before he was suddenly shoved backwards. Quickly windmilling, legs trying to catch up. A rush of dizziness spinning the world around him. He flailed. Crying out as his back slammed into the cold leather covering of the curved bench behind him. Castiel bracing him against it as the hand slid up to his throat and cut off his air. 

Dean gasped, whining as he scrambled for purchase above his head, finding the handles on either side and gripping them in white-knucled hands. The pressure suddenly eased on his throat, his vision wavering and spinning as he gulped in a deep, ragged breath. Castiel released him and reached down to unbutton his pants, the sound loud as awareness rushed back. Dean whined, eyes falling to watch as Castiel pulled himself free. 

Dean’s mouth watered in desperation at the sight of Castiel’s arousal. Suddenly those demanding, possessive hands dropped to yank Dean’s thighs up and around the handles on either side of his hips, spreading him wide. Dean grunted, feeling exposed and trapped before Castiel met his eyes. They locked gazes and lust and power shone in blue depths before Castiel gripped his throat again, pressing against his windpipe as he positioned himself against Dean’s aching entrance. A pause. Dean’s vision swam with the lack of oxygen as he desperately gasped. 

Suddenly the hand eased, making Dean’s head rush as he heaved, gasping for breath. Then Castiel slid home. Dean’s cry pitched low and broken as Castiel thrust into him, burying himself to the hilt and sliding across Dean’s prostate causing pleasure to burst in his stomach. Dean sagged, held up only by Castiel’s body and his knees hooked around the handles of the bench as Castiel leaned over him to press a filthy kiss to Dean’s lips. 

Dean’s eyes fluttered shut as he arched up to return the kiss. His mouth opened to Castiel’s insistent lips and tongue while Castiel dragged himself back out of Dean then shoved himself forward again, burying himself deep. Dean was spread wide and loose so Castiel quickly set a brutal pace. Pleasure raced through Dean as he screamed, back arching in response to the stimulus and rough pace. The scream was strangled as Castiel gripped his throat again, cutting off his air as he slammed home over and over, tension building and cresting. 

“Cum for me, Sweetheart. Cum all over yourself for me. Going to own you, fill you up, Gonna make you drip with my seed,” Castiel promised and Dean sobbed brokenly, vision narrowing with the strong press against his throat. Suddenly, as Dean’s cries grew more feverish and his vision began to swim completely, the hand pulled away as oxygen and blood rushed through him with a last powerful thrust. 

Dean came. He arched in a wordless cry as he clamped down around Castiel’s cock, his own release coating his stomach as he released a low loud cry and his vision went dark. 

It could have been five minutes or five hours, but Dean slowly came back to consciousness, surrounded by Castiel’s scent. He was wrapped in a blanket, cocooned in strong arms. He didn’t remember being lifted from the bench, or carried up to the armchair upstairs with a blanket wrapped around him. He remembered none of this, nor did he remember Castiel’s gentle praise. But as he slowly began to come back to himself it was still being repeated. He shifted, burying his face in Castiel’s neck as embarrassment and awareness creeped in around them and he finally managed to make it out, “such a good boy, Dean.” 

The words lifted his spirits from the wobbling, trembling mass of pain and pleasure and pride and shame. He nuzzled closer to Castiel’s neck, inhaling the rich scent of his cologne as his eyes closed and tears welled between closed lids. “Cas…” 

“There you are, Sweetheart. Such a good boy for me,” Castiel’s praise came soft and gentle as did the hands that soothed down his back. Castiel pressed gentle kisses to Dean’s sweat-damped hair and he held out the water bottle to him, “drink a little water for me, Dean.” 

Dean obediently pulled back enough to be able to sip it down and he wavered, his legs pulling up which only made him hiss as the ache that throbbed through him at the movement. He was going to be feeling this for days and the thought made him swell with pleasure and pride. 

Castiel, meanwhile, was frowning as he gently traced a hand down the impressions from the rope across Dean’s shoulder blades. “When you’re feeling a little more yourself I’m going to need to take a look at those cuts, Sweetheart.” He said softly. The rest of the crowd had dispersed and was giving them space enough to settle back into themselves rather than the pleasure that had overtaken them both in the scene. 

Castiel fussed after Dean, feeding him bits of fruit and then pastry, his lips frequently pressing forward for gentle kisses to Dean’s cheeks and hair. Each kiss, each bite of food gently slipped between his lips, all bloomed butterflies in Dean’s stomach. The next press made Dean’s lip tremble and he cleared his throat, carefully shifting to try and hide just how overwhelmed he was feeling at the gentle care. He wasn’t used to others looking after him. That had always been his job and he wasn’t sure how to take it. Castiel only gave him that tiny quirk of a smile and another gentle kiss to his lips.

Dean surged forward to meet the kiss, shifting to push closer, his chest pressing into Castiel’s as he tried to get as close as he could to the dark-haired man. Castiel met the urgency from the younger man with patient kisses before he finally pulled back to meet Dean’s eyes. “Come home with me? Spend the night?” 

Dean felt that same swoop of pleasure and glee and he could feel his cheeks darkening with his blush but he played it off as best he could, “awww Cas, I mean… I would but I’m a classy lady, you gonna respect me in the morning?” 

Castiel blinked then threw his head back in a wide-grinned laugh. “Oh Dean, I promise to respect you in the morning… but only if you brush your teeth before kissing me,” he said firmly. 

Dean smirked and rested his head on Castiel’s shoulder, hand coming up to grip the edge of Castiel’s vest, “yeah, I promise.” 

Castiel chuckled and squeezed Dean in a hug, “good boy.”


End file.
